


Eternity

by Lennelle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Codependent Winchesters (Supernatural), Episode: s15e09 The Trap, Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 08:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22493014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lennelle/pseuds/Lennelle
Summary: Sam and Dean vs. eternity.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> Ep 9 was a mess but I was thoroughly amused by Dean's hissy vampire face and very intrigued by the potential angst vampchesters would bring, hence this fic.

The world’s more monster than human these days. Although, Sam supposes he was never really human to begin with. It’s Dean that breaks his heart, fills him with guilt until its overflowing, drowning him. But Dean doesn’t seem all that heartbroken himself. He still drives his baby, still crashes on stiff motel bed sheets, still stuffs his face with snacks stolen out of broken vending machines.

Not much has changed, Sam pretends. Really, everything has changed.

They’re cruising down an empty highway at midnight, the moon full and glowing high up in the sky. Sam can hear the wolves howling miles away. He can smell blood, too, dried up and flaking.

“You hungry?” Dean asks.

Sam shrugs. “Sure.” He’s starving, but he doesn’t really like to say so. He thinks of Lenore, sinking her teeth into cow hides, and he grimaces. He’d tried that, at first. She was right, it is disgusting. There came a point when Sam finally allowed himself to indulge.

Dean stops at the next town. The windows are blacked out, food rotten in fridges and gas gone off in car tanks. It looks abandoned, but Sam can smell them. Humans, hiding out in one of the houses around here. It doesn’t take long to find them, to sniff them out from under the floorboards of one of the houses, huddled under there like rats. Two guys and a woman. They try to fight, like they all do, fire a round of bullets and Sam and Dean.

Sam and Dean leave the town with their bellies full, blood drying on their chins. Sam wipes his face as clean as he can get it and Dean flashes him a fang-filled grin.

Dawn is approaching, the sun announcing her arrival with a carpet of red rolled out across the sky. Sam and Dean roll into the next motel and shake the bullets from their chests before passing out for the day.

\----

A year or so into this new life and Sam thinks he’s used to it by now. He thinks of himself from before. What would that Sam say to him now? There probably wouldn’t be much conversation, just a blade through his neck.

Sam and Dean have settled down in an apartment in Chicago. They killed the previous residents, drained the dry and dumped what was left in the nearest river. Sam misses the bunker, sometimes. They can’t go back there, not with all their old pals out for their heads.

Dean is sprawled out on the mattress, Walkman plugged in to his ears as he bops his head to whatever rock tune he’s listening to. He turns to Sam and gives him his most passionate lip-syncing performance, screwed up face and air-grabbing included.

Sam can’t help laughing. He watches Dean’s mouth, tries to guess the song.

“The Who’s _Behind Blue Eyes?”_ he asks.

“… _to be hated, to be fated,”_ Dean sings in response, off-key of course, “ _to telling only lies!”_

He carries on, with more enthusiasm than is necessary. Sam watches him and smiles. Dean is happy. And, if Sam will let himself admit it, he is too.

\----

Sam’s fang-deep in some woman’s neck. She struggles, tries to bring her knife up to make a dent in him, but he squeezes her wrist until something snaps, the blade falls to the ground with a clatter. He licks his lips when he’s done, someone else’s blood warming him up from the inside. He wasn’t new to the whole blood-drinking thing. Dean had been the one to get used to it.

“You done?” Dean asks from behind.

Sam sits back and sighs. He could curl up to sleep right now, belly full and blissed out of his fucking mind. Dean presses his palm to Sam’s cheek and when Sam opens his eyes to find his brother staring at him, a soft smile on his lips.

Dean pats his cheek. “Clean up, buttercup,” he says, tossing an already bloodied rag at him. Sam does as he’s told and attempts to scrub the red from his skin.

“Remember our first vamp hunt?” Sam asks.

“Sure. The one with Dad.”

“Yeah, that one. I remember he said that vamps mate for life.”

“Uh-huh?” Dean hums. “Where you going with this, Sammy? You’re not gonna drop down on one knee, are you?”

Sam gives him a small kick to the back of the leg and shoots him his most unimpressed look. “Shut up. No, I’m just saying. I dunno, it’s just interesting.”

Dean rolls his eyes.

“We’re in this for eternity,” Sam finally says. “I’m not saying whatever gross thing you’re thinking. I’m saying… I can’t imagine forever with anyone else.”

Dean doesn’t say anything, just holds out his hand to pull Sam back to his feet. They walk quietly back to the car and right before revving the engine back up, Dean answers, “I’m glad to be stuck with you forever too, Samantha.”

\----

Months down the line when Dean’s got his teeth deep in Jody’s neck and her heart has stopped beating, when Bobby swings his machete and Sam’s head rolls across the floorboards, when Dean screams and rips Bobby’s throat out.

 _Yeah_ , Dean thinks, _I can’t imagine eternity with anyone else._


End file.
